Veiled
by SymphonicRedWolf
Summary: Alfred is a young man with the powers of a Dream Walker. He can see others' dreams and manipulate them at will. But when he has a series of reoccurring dreams about a snowy world lost to time and a violet-eyed man he had never seen before, he realises that it's more than it seems and finds himself uncovering a deep story of surprise and betrayal that may be more than just a dream.
1. Chapter 1

**_Hello everyone. So this is the first chapter of my newest story and I re-wrote and edited this chapter a bunch of times before I was somewhat satisfied with it. But I'm fairly happy with it now, so I present to you the beginning!_**

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><p>Closing his eyes was always a gamble; he never knew what he would get. Sometimes they were wondrous scenes, sometimes fantastic battles, other times they would be so scary he would wake in the middle of the night, hair plastered to his head in a cold sweat, heart racing a mile a minute. His dreams were all too <em>real. <em>The sights, sounds, smells…

Whoever said that you could not feel pain in your dreams clearly had no idea what they were talking about.

This dream: it was like nothing he had ever seen before. At first he was surrounded by a brilliant, blinding white. The boy blinked several times, wondering if it was just the glare from his glasses that made everything look like that or if he was disoriented by the light. He pulled the lenses off his face, wiping them gently with his shirt before slipping them back on, blinking again for added measure.

The light settled some, granting him the first real glimpse of his new surroundings. He stood frozen in his spot, ocean blue orbs scanning everything in sight. He didn't dare take a step in case the scene decided to shift without warning, as dreams could occasionally do. He had learned that the hard way once, trekking through what appeared to be just an ordinary forest when all of a sudden the ground gave way beneath his feet, sending him tumbling through seemingly endless blackness until he landed face-first on the ground with a whimper and the sound of something cracking.

When he finally forced himself up, warm blood trickling from his most likely broken nose, he found himself staring into a pair of bloodthirsty ruby eyes. As the blond's eyes widened, the glowing ruby orbs narrowed into thin slits and a low, guttural growl filled the space around him. The blond's heart raced, the slick sheen of sweat that covered his forehead and trembling hands reflecting that ominous red back at the shadowed beast, lighting up the blackness with the colour of blood.

A fierce blast of cold air hit him in the face, the wind mercilessly knocked out of his lungs as he was brought back to his senses. The memory faded back into nothing and he shivered, rubbing his hands together as his glasses frosted over. The wind howled around him as if to laugh as he blew short breaths of warm air into his freezing hands, wishing he had a pair of gloves or even just a heavier jacket to protect him from the cold.

There was something about the way the wind swirled around him, the way it howled with mocking laughter that made it seem…alive. But that was impossible; he had never heard of an entity like that and certainly his professor would have mentioned an entity that was that powerful. And then there was that constant feeling of being watched, of an invisible gaze that bore into his flesh, scrutinizing his every move. It set him on edge, but he continued forward through the snow anyway. He was here for a reason; there was always a meaning behind these dreams he visited.

What exactly was so important about a snowfield was beyond him, but his curiosity wouldn't let him quit now.

_Come on, Alfred. There's probably something really awesome just over that hill. It's just a little cold; this is nothing! _

Alfred stuffed his hands in his pockets, a new wave of determination flowing through him, putting the spring back in his step. With just a few long strides, he had reached the top of the hill, staring in awe at the scene that unfurled before him.

Standing proudly in the distance was a large town unlike any he had ever seen before. The snow settled artfully around the town, falling lightly over the streets in comparison to the snow coming down on the field around him. Everything looked like it was made of ice, even the large palace that stood behind the rest of the town. Alfred mouthed a silent "Wow," wondering just how anybody could design something like this. He felt like he was standing in a scene from one of those sappy Christmas cards with the beautiful snowy town behind him and suddenly somebody would come by and take his picture to plaster on this year's batch of cards.

Before he could take the first step closer, another strong wind barreled into him from behind, sending him unceremoniously rolling down the hill with a yelp. His glasses flew from his face, landing in a small snowbank a few feet away from the stunned boy. The chilly, howling laughter swirled around him, throwing snow at the blinded Alfred as he tried to regain his bearings, groping around in the snow for his glasses.

_No, this is so not cool… I can't see a damn thing without them and all this cold and snow isn't helping at all! Is it even possible for it to snow this much? _

The joyful cry of "Aha!" echoed into the distance as his hands brushed over the thin frames and Alfred couldn't slip his glasses on fast enough. Seeing the world as one white blur disoriented him and he could've sworn he saw the outline of something floating in front of him. But as his glasses sat once again where they should have been and clarity returned to the world, he decided it must have been his eyes playing tricks on him since there was nothing there.

Alfred constantly wondered why he still needed his glasses even in dreams, but no matter what he did to try and change it, his eyesight never got any better. He remembered a particularly frightening time he lost his glasses; he was in a dangerous city he had never been in before, joined with a supernatural task force whose job it was to deal with the threats of the underworld. He and his teammates were fighting a pack of werewolves when one of them knocked the lenses clean off his face, leaving Alfred defenseless. Blindly he tried to continue the fight, desperately focusing on the rapidly moving blurs, only to awake moments later with a strangled scream, clutching his chest tightly and heaving.

If dreams were supposed to be worlds in which anything was possible, it made no sense to him why his eyesight had to be as bad as it was in the real world.

The memories disappeared immediately as he gaped at the buildings. His legs had already started moving him forward before his brain could even consider the option, ensuring that the city before him had Alfred's undivided attention.

The first thing he stared at was the strange design of the large palace. There were several large towers, each of different heights, but each had that strange dome shape on the top. Onion shaped was the best term he could use to describe it, having never seen architecture like that before. The walls of the smaller towers were lined with windows near the top; high enough for the occupants to have a full view of the city and keep their privacy from any nosy onlookers. Two of the towers had the appearance of scale mail, red and golden plates overlapping from the base to the very top. The other two towers had a strange zig-zag pattern running horizontally up the pillar, each layer alternating between red and white. Three-quarters of the way up the towers rested a collection of fanlight windows that caught the sunlight just right, mimicking tiny beacons. There was a small balcony under each dome, a thin black railing serving as the only protection from a free-fall to certain death. Why that shape? He wondered, walking further into the city.

And the colours… The palace sparkled and shined in the sunlight, throwing its brilliant colours every which way. Every surface seemed to reflect the light back at the nearby buildings, but as Alfred squinted his eyes, it didn't appear to be made of glass or ice or any kind of reflective material. The blond was left with more questions than answers as he walked onto one of the many roads, glancing around for anything that could give him an idea of where he was.

A grin spread out over his face as he found a sign, but was quickly replaced by a frown and furrowing of his brows when he realized it was written in some alien language he had never seen before. And no amount of squinting or tilting his head or wishing for a translation made it any better.

_Alright, looks like there's no help there… Is everything written with these weird symbols? How the hell am I supposed to figure out what's going on?! I'll have to remember these and ask about them later… _

Each building seemed to try and outdo the next. If one was taller, the next one would have more embellishments. He would walk past a few stores and end up standing by a decently sized park, the swings and jungle gyms coated in a layer of shimmering ice and snow. There was a sign standing by the entrance of the park that Alfred chanced a glance at, but it proved as helpful as the squiggles that were above what he assumed to be the stores.

The closer he got to the palace, the larger it got. He paused just outside the large doors, pleasantly surprised to find them open and inviting, looking up at the building. He could see just how intricate the designs on the domes really were, the swirled and tiled patterns varying from each dome.

Alfred blinked as he saw something moving just under one of those domes, jumping to try and get a closer looked. The figure paused and Alfred tensed, holding his breath as it bent over the side of the tower, brown locks falling over its face. He was sure that he'd be discovered and captured and then from there it was a mystery what they would try to do to him. The only thing he was sure of was that it would hurt, whatever it was.

Alfred could feel the eyes on him for a brief second, but something stopped the blond from looking away; he stared back, transfixed. While the face of the other was too far away for him to get a real good look at him, he could make out a thick coat and what appeared to be a forest green uniform. The mysterious man brushed his brown bangs behind his ear and straightened himself up again, doing a quick sweep of the area before resuming his pacing.

With that near miss, Alfred exhaled, running through the large doors and out of sight from the unknown guard. He whistled as he walked through the corridor, the ornate walls making it look bigger than it was. Red, gold, silver, even blue designs snaked along the walls, twisting and creating intricate old-style patterns.

He paused in front of a collection of portraits, each one larger than him and probably weighing more, too. Every portrait had a golden frame around it and he backed up to the opposite side of the wall to see them all. There weren't very many of them—five or six, maybe—and it was the same few people in each one. His eyes immediately flew to a portrait of a man; a man unlike he had ever seen before.

He looked young standing there, no older than Alfred or maybe a year or two at most. But the silvery hair that fell in his eyes made him wonder if he could really be that young. There was the faint hint of a smile on the man's face, even though those piercing violet orbs seemed to hold a different emotion Alfred couldn't quite place. Fear? Regret? Anger? It was impossible to tell from the picture. His eyes moved down, tracing the shape of the thick scarf that covered the man's neck, following it over his shoulders and across…

Alfred shook his head.

_Get it together, man! This isn't even real!_

Just like these buildings, the man in the portrait was wearing traditional looking clothing that Alfred had never seen before. The clothes were as colourful as the walls of the great palace, and they suited the man very well. A small golden plaque sat underneath the portrait and Alfred squinted, hoping it would tell him the name of this royal-looking mystery man.

He sighed and hung his head. Nothing but the strange alien language. It was the same for the rest of the pictures and not being able to understand anything was starting to annoy the blond. He was more than a little interested in the name of the man who looked like he ruled over this land, but staring at the words was getting him nowhere fast.

Deciding to leave the silver-haired man's portrait alone, his eyes wandered to the one next to it. His eyes widened as he took in the two figures and he clamped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. There was the silver-haired man again, only he was wearing a much less formal looking outfit: a simple beige jacket that fell to his knees and the same light coloured scarf from his other portrait. But that wasn't what surprised Alfred.

Standing next to the man was _him. _Or at least somebody who looked a hell of a lot like him. The blond's hair in the picture was a little longer, coming down to his shoulders. It had a slight wave to it, and where Alfred had a cowlick that refused to stay down no matter what he did to it, the boy in the portrait had a curl that hung down separate from the rest of his blond locks. His eyes were a lighter version of the taller man's next to him, much more expressive than the other's. He smiled softly, looking more at the man next to him than straight ahead.

Alfred's eyes widened even more.

_Does he like him?! Is that supposed to be me?! _

He backed up until he hit the wall, unable to peel his eyes away from the portrait. Alfred's mind raced, trying to figure out just why somebody who looked so much like him was in this dream, looking so _friendly _with the ruler of this land.

When he finally could take his eyes off it, his mind screaming at him to remember that this was a dream and nothing more, he only briefly scanned the remaining portraits, afraid of what he might find next. The most interesting, in his opinion, was the large portrait that must have been of everybody who lived here with him. The silver haired man was standing in the centre while the boy who looked too much like Alfred for comfort stood at his right side. A brunet with his hair tied back into a neat ponytail stood at the man's left, sword on his hip and was clad in the same coloured uniform as the man he caught a glimpse of on the tower. His emerald eyes were hard and focused despite the small smile his lips were turned up in. One and the same, he figured, moving his eyes to the next group.

Off to the side stood a tall man with a short, neat hairstyle and black rimmed glasses, blue eyes focused towards the floor instead of straight ahead. His hand rested lightly on the shoulder of boy with honey coloured curls wearing a deep red uniform with short golden tassels hanging from his shoulders. He was a nervous kid, Alfred figured; that much was evident from his expression in the picture. The child's eyes were the same colour as the silver-haired man's, but Alfred didn't quite feel like they were related. No matter which way he looked at them, he couldn't reach the conclusion that they had any kind of familial ties. Nothing outside of their eye colour was the same: completely different hair and hairstyles, different build, but it was mostly the height difference that was the obvious giveaway for him.

The rest of the portraits were just different combinations of the men from the group photo and Alfred was still freaked out—although he wouldn't admit it—about the boy who looked like it could have been him if he grew his hair out. Alfred appreciated a good game and a good joke, but this was taking it way too far. When he figured out the reason behind this dream or just who was behind this dream, he would make sure they got hell for it.

Alfred grumbled to himself about how weird this was getting and followed the red carpet to the end of the hall, stopping just before a grand arch. Perched at the top of the arch was the golden statue of a large bird, wings outstretched, ready to take flight. He marveled at it for a moment; he had a love for birds, especially birds of prey, and this bird looked incredibly proud and majestic. But unlike any bird he had ever seen before, this one had two heads, one looking East and the other, West.

There were more hallways to the left and right, the red carpet stretching until he couldn't see it anymore. While he was more than curious to see what was hiding deeper in the palace, the twisting arch before him was even more alluring. Something that big at the entrance had to mean that the room held significant importance.

Eagerly he strode into the room, expecting to find some huge royal chamber or maybe even a dungeon. There was a spring in his step as he stepped between the parallel rows of porcelain white columns, feeling like a kid in a candy store. The large room opened up before him and he paused, spinning around for a full view of the room.

Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched out for most of the length of the walls, sunlight relentlessly beating down on the columns. Each column seemed to sparkle brilliantly in the sunlight, lighting up the room even more. Deep red velvet curtains adorned the windows, tied back on each side with a golden braided rope. Alfred felt so small standing in this room that could probably hold at least two hundred people easily, wanting to either shrink back or grow in size to compensate.

He was about to take another step forward when he heard footsteps on the opposite side of the room, quickly dashing behind one of the columns. Alfred held his breath as he heard the footsteps getting closer and then receding, peeking out from behind the column ever so slightly to steal a glance. Taking a breath could very well be the end of him; he didn't dare risk giving away his position, especially not in unknown territory.

There was the silver-haired man from the portrait, pacing back and forth in front of a large bright red throne. Even at a distance, Alfred could see just how tall he was, towering over the small table and statues that surrounded the throne. If he squinted, he could make out the same two-headed eagle from the arch emblazoned on the throne in black and gold, but his focus lie on the man as he continued pacing, oblivious to the young blond in the room. Alfred watched intently as his scarf tails flared up every time he made a sharp turn, watched him stick his hands in his coat pocket and mumble something in that strange language. The blond couldn't take his eyes off the man; he watched every move he made, focusing only on him.

Alfred didn't notice the wind howl or the lights in the room flicker. The ornate chandelier began to sway overhead and the blond was none the wiser.

The mysterious man's voice was soft, but Alfred could sense that there was something on his mind even if he couldn't understand. He wanted to help more than anything; he was always driven by his desire to protect others, to be somebody's hero. It didn't matter if this was only a dream; somebody needed his help and he would be the one to give it to him.

He drew in a breath and stared at the man to make sure his position was not compromised, grinning at his ability to remain inconspicuous. Alfred had to think of the best course of action. Running right up to the man and announcing his presence could only get him so far; what if he didn't speak English or was deemed a threat and possibly executed? He was in no mood to be attacked. An attack now would put a damper on his possible rescue plan.

All the plans he concocted were quickly shattered as he realized how dark everything around him was getting. Out the window he saw the sun which was just shining brightly moments ago covered by a thick layer of dark clouds. The columns he was hiding behind lost their brilliant white glow and the room was plunged into near darkness save for the flickering chandeliers above. The wind howled angrily and slammed into the window panes, causing them to rattle and shake violently. Alfred bit back a surprised shout, turning his attention back to the man who had now paused his pacing and stood straight, staring at the ceiling.

That scarf of his whipped around as the wind penetrated the barrier of the windows, causing Alfred to shiver and hug himself. The room slowly began to freeze over, the windows being hidden under a thick layer of ice and frost. Alfred tried to scream something, _anything_ to the man on the opposite side of the room, but his voice was lost to the chattering of his teeth.

_D-Damn it! W-Why did it get so c-cold?! _

Alfred rubbed his arms in an attempt to generate any kind of heat; freezing to death was not the ideal way to go. Alfred always imagined a more heroic and exciting death and this certainly did not fit the bill. He ground his teeth, watching the violet eyes of the man widen and for the first time, Alfred could make out the emotion in those orbs: fear.

Before he could race for the man, a large grey figure appeared before them, blocking Alfred's view. His breath caught in his throat and his entire body froze in fear; he had to fight just to swallow. The figure kept his back to Alfred, tattered cloak flaring up in the harsh wind, engulfing most of the room.

Alfred tried screaming again, only to end up with the same result as before. He repeatedly kicked himself mentally, hating the fact he was being so weak, so helpless. Trying to force his body forward was a more difficult task than he ever imagined possible; never once in his dreams was he fighting himself and losing. But he refused to give up so easily, opening his mouth to scream again. He would get his voice out one way or another; it just took a few tries.

Ocean orbs widened in fear as his hands flew to his neck. Suddenly his throat was on fire, the burning, icy sting of the cold spreading through his body every time he struggled to draw in a breath. Alfred panicked and began to hyperventilate, trying to will more air into his lungs. The quickened, laboured breathing only served to freeze him faster from the inside out, the burning sensation getting worse and worse until the blond could no longer breathe.

He reached a hand out for the silver-haired man desperately, hoping he would be noticed even with the other figure in the room that commanded attention. He pleaded silently for help, squeezing his throat tighter as if that would open his airway and melt the ice that only spread deeper and deeper into his body no matter how much he silently begged for it to stop.

_P-Please… J-Just…this way… _

In the blink of an eye, he was staring into the most lifeless pair of eyes he had ever seen. Everything around him went grey and his body reacted like it was shocked; he scrambled backwards only to trip over his own two feet and land unceremoniously on his back. The figure leaned in closer, voice sending a chill up Alfred's already frozen spine.

"Убирайся!" it demanded in that unknown language, the wind whipping around them for emphasis. That tattered cloak flew towards him, wrapping tightly around his neck and body until all he could see was grey. The world got darker and darker, all the sights and sounds around him fading away until his freezing body didn't matter, until the lack of air or that mysterious man didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore...


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hey, all! So I bring you chapter two. It took me forever to write because I actually rather liked the first chapter and I felt like this one sucked completely in comparison that I didn't want to continue writing it at all... I've got things mapped out, but this chapter... Ugh. Anyway, I apologise for how boring this chapter may be in comparison to the first one. But the fun comes again next chapter! Anyway, here you are.**_

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><p>Alfred woke with a scream, gasping and struggling for air. His eyes were wide and frantic, one hand at his neck and the other clutching at his chest. His mind was in a fog; that was normal after dreams like that, but it was never this bad. This was the first time he had ever been forced out of a dream against his will, but he was thankful for it all the same. Another minute in there and Alfred was sure he would have died for real. Alfred's mind was stuck somewhere between reality and the dream world, his eyes seeing everything but his brain not working fast enough to process it.<p>

There was cold; so much cold and it was relentlessly suffocating him, turning him into a living icicle and he just wanted it to stop, stop, stop…

"Alfred…?" came the soft, concerned voice of the boy sitting beside him, chocolate eyes fixed on him worriedly. His brows furrowed when Alfred didn't register him speaking to him, reaching out to tentatively put a hand on his shoulder. Normally he would never do that without permission—or with it, for that matter—but this was an emergency.

"Alfred!" he tried again, a little louder this time, fighting back the surge of emotions that poured into him from the simple touch. Everything that Alfred was feeling hit the small boy like a ton of bricks: fear, wonder, helplessness, anger, awe, and was that…? He pulled away as an icy chill crept up his spine, shivering slightly in his light clothing.

Alfred's pulse slowed slightly as the room came into focus, the breaths and the oxygen coming easier. The weight of the dream slowly began to melt away. There was no figure, no wind, no excruciating icy burn spreading through his body—just a warm, familiar room and a surprised chocolate-eyed boy staring at him, concern etched onto his face.

"W-Where…? Kiku, where'd he go?!" Ocean eyes continued to scan the room for any trace of the cloaked figure, a small trace of fear still present in his expression.

"Alfred, what are you looking for? There's nobody here. You were sleeping." Kiku kept his voice softer than usual to avoid startling the disoriented blond.

Alfred blinked as Kiku's words slowly started to register in his mind, taking his first real look at his surroundings since he woke up. He knew this room; knew it very well. Five rows of two three-four person desks spread the length of the room. The walls of the classroom were deep forest green—his professor's favourite colour—and the blinds were drawn on two of the four large windows in the room. Alfred could see everybody seated at their desks—he always preferred to sit in the back to avoid the sharp gaze of his professor or take an occasional nap or two—only instead of looking ahead and focusing on the lecture, all eyes were on him.

The professor paused mid-sentence, piercing emerald orbs boring a hole into the young blond. There was a small stick of chalk in his hand still pressed against the blackboard, only halfway through its course of the word 'defence.' "I'm sorry you find my lecture so appalling, Alfred," he huffed, sending everyone except for Kiku into a fit of laughter. "I'll try and do better next time. Maybe you'll actually stay awake."

Alfred looked around sheepishly. Of all the times to fall asleep… Before he could open his mouth, the professor cut him off with a quick "See me after class" and resumed the lecture as if the outburst had never happened. Alfred slumped in his chair as the class turned its attention back to the lecture, tuning out all the other voices. He missed most of the lecture as it was; no point in trying to pay attention now.

"Sorry," Alfred mumbled under his breath to no one in particular, wishing he could sink through the floor or phase through the wall. He _sometimes _fell asleep during lecture and occasionally did snore, but it wasn't _that _bad, right? With a sigh he turned to look at his good friend. Kiku gave the blond a small smile and reached out to put his hand on his shoulder, but froze midway when he remembered the surge of emotions that flooded through him from the boy. Kiku had a soft spot for Alfred, but that was something else…

"Alfred, are you okay? What was that?" Calculating chocolate eyes met surprised ocean ones and Alfred knew there was no point in trying to hide anything from his friend. Kiku knew; he always knew. That was part of his power.

"Was it that bad…?" Alfred knew just how bad it was, but he was sure he didn't let anything slip.

"Hai. You were grabbing your throat like you were being strangled and screaming. I sensed it coming from you without even meaning to, but before you started to scream, you were mumbling to yourself. You mentioned snow, then something about a group of people. I watched you for a while and then all of a sudden you turned pale and you looked terrified. And where did you learn that strange word…?" Kiku's face lit up as he spoke of the mystery language, the way it always did when he was presented with something he knew nothing about.

"Strange word? What strange—oh!" The blond's eyes widened as the face of the cloaked entity came back into mind, pushing away from the table and toppling the chair backwards with a loud crash. The professor glanced up briefly from his lecture to see Kiku trying to help him up, sending the two boys an annoyed look. Alfred rubbed at his head when he was righted in his chair once again, quietly thanking the dark-haired boy for the help. "How did you know about that?"

"It was strange; I had never heard it before, so naturally I listened closer to try and hear it better. At first I thought you were just jumbling your words together, but after I heard you repeat it a few times, I realised that it was more than just that. What was it? У-Уб...I could not repeat it no matter how many times I tried. So what does it mean?"

Alfred thought for a moment, shivering as a chill ran down his spine as he recalled the word in question and that terrifying face again. He pushed it to the back of his mind, shaking his head. "…Убирайся..." Alfred repeated slowly, the pronunciation not nearly as smooth or natural as when he heard it. "I have no idea… I've never heard a word like that in my life. It was the guy in my dream! This _huge _scary guy who could float and everything got really cold when he showed up. Like, I'm talking freeze your ass off in the Arctic cold. No, it was _worse! _I swear, I thought he was going to kill me right there, Kiku. He looked _pissed_. Or maybe he was surprised? I don't even know… But you need to see this!"

Kiku watched curiously as Alfred tore through his backpack, fishing around for a small blue notebook and a pencil. The pages, Kiku could see as he flipped through them, were filled with notes and doodles of assorted things: superheroes, scenery, people, weaponry, and many other little things. Notes flooded the margins and the pages, some written neatly and others appearing to be hurriedly scribbled down before the blond would forget what he wanted to write. Alfred's pencil flew at the paper, scratching away. Kiku rather liked seeing him like this; it was such a different change of pace to see Alfred concentrated and focused on one thing as opposed to being the bouncy, overexcited kid he was.

"Check these out!" Alfred held the book up to Kiku, who tilted his head in response.

"What am I looking at…?" Several weird looking symbols were drawn across the page and even…were those numbers? Kiku's eyes scanned each symbol, studying it closely. There was a «Ж», а «Я», а «Ю», «Ч», and «И» written inbetween the dark graphite blotches where the blond had tried to hide something.

"Weird, right? Apparently this is a language or something! Whatever town I was in in my dream had these symbols and more written on everything! How anybody can understand these is beyond me, but hey, I've had weirder dreams. Kinda…" He laughed a little and pointed to the «Ч». "Doesn't this look like the number four to you? What kind of language puts numbers in the middle of their words? Even inside the palace: all the portraits had plaques under them of the royal family or whatever and I couldn't read any of them because they were all using these weird…things." Alfred pouted, which Kiku found strange. "I couldn't even figure out his name… But it started with this! I think…" He quickly pointed to the «И».

"His name…? Whose name, Alfred?" Kiku could quickly sense the shift in the atmosphere around the boy when this mystery man was mentioned. The normally calm, playful atmosphere shifted and Kiku could tell he was trying to hide something.

"I don't know, Kiku! Just…_him. _The really tall guy who lived in the palace! I tried really hard to figure out what that name was, but I can't even remember what came after that weird backwards N thing. But you should have seen him."

Alfred flipped to the next fresh page, grinning widely as he spoke of the violet-eyed man with the scarf. He explained—in as much detail as he could—everything he remembered of seeing him in the portrait and in the flesh. He spoke of his height, how strange an eye-colour it was, the silvery colour of his hair, the way he stood in the picture—deciding to leave out for now the man who could've been his twin—and even how strange his clothes were. He tried sketching him out as he spoke, but Alfred was no great artist, none of his attempts coming close to the mark. It frustrated him that now of all times his drawing skills sucked more than usual, but before he could pout about it, he turned to Kiku, a hopeful look on his face.

"Eh…?" Kiku blinked, not quite sure he liked the look his friend was giving him. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Say, Kiku…? You think you could try and draw me a picture of him based on all the information I've given you?"

Kiku blinked and spluttered, surprised at the sudden question. "W-What? I am no artist, Alfred!"

"Aw, come on, buddy! I've seen you drawing all your anime drawings; you're amazing! I've even seen the doodles of the professor in chibi form when you thought nobody was looking. _Please…?_" Kiku's face flushed bright red in embarrassment. Alfred had seen those…? He tried so hard to hide them, too.

"M-Maybe… But I would need more information about the man to draw him accurately. Can you tell me the rest of what happened in your dream?"

Alfred spent the rest of the class time talking excitedly about everything that happened that he remembered from start to finish. The incredible amounts of snow, the palace that he thought was made out of some kind of magic ice, the colours, the buildings, and everything inbetween. Kiku listened intently, staying quiet for the most part save for the occasional nod or hum to show he was still paying attention. He had so many questions he wanted to ask the blond, but he would wait until he was finished with his tale before asking any of them; Kiku didn't want to interrupt.

But everything he said just raised more and more questions…

"Crazy, right? I mean, I've been in a _lot _of weird dreams before, but this one takes the cake. It was like nothing I've ever seen before. And I've fought vampires and werewolves before!" Kiku thought back to that several months ago: Alfred had woken up suddenly sporting multiple scratches and claw marks. His hair was a disheveled mess and he waved his arms around like he was holding some kind of weapon, waking up their entire dormitory with threats of attacks. Tensions in the room that night were high, Kiku remembered in particular, not liking the tight, cramped feeling that closed in on him from the rampant emotions of their roommates.

"Hai… You have some very strange dreams sometimes, Alfred."

Alfred laughed and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah… I don't always ask for 'em, but they're pretty cool when I get them. Actually, it's kind of weird to go a night without getting tossed into somebody's dream. But what do you think?"

Kiku shook his head. "I really have no idea… You should try asking the professor; he might know more about this than I do."

"You're probably right, but I really don't want to get yelled at right—"

"Alfred, may I speak with you for a moment?" The commanding, stern tone of their professor cut Alfred off before he could finish his sentence, the blond sighing at the man's impeccable timing. It may have sounded like a question, but Alfred knew better than that; it was an order no matter which way he looked at it and agreeing right off the bat would make it that much easier for himself.

"I swear, it's like he knows exactly when we're talking about him and waits until then to chime in…" Alfred mumbled under his breath to avoid aggravating his teacher further. "He's going to kill me, I know it… They'll be pulling shards or spikes of magic out of my dead body! Stay with me? At least I'll have a witness that way…"

Kiku nodded, neatly packing away his notebook into his small backpack, taking care not to wrinkle any of the pages as he did so. Keeping things in as perfect order as possible was important to the small boy. When the atmosphere shifted unpredictably every second, it was a comfort to know that some things always stayed the way they were. It brought him a sense of comfort.

Alfred didn't bother packing up his things; after-class talks with his professor could sometimes exceed an hour in length and he sounded more annoyed with him this time than usual. Fingers curled tightly around the small blue notebook for comfort, Alfred rose from his chair, waiting for Kiku to do the same before he strode over to the front of the room.

Their professor was a few inches shorter than Alfred, yet still a relatively tall man compared to some of the others at the school. His piercing emerald gaze could frighten anybody into submission and although he called himself a gentleman, he could fire off insults and curses harsher than anybody else Alfred knew. The man sported a rather unruly mop of blond hair, more yellow in colour than gold or brown. At first glance, the haircut his teacher fancied seemed like nothing more than a rushed job, but it suited the man quite well, giving him a slightly edgier look. Pointed ears poked out from behind blond locks, revealing him to be of elven blood.

Alfred was surprised to see his ears the first time he met the man. Elves were something he saw in his dreams occasionally, the stuff of fairy tales, so to meet one in real life surprised the young boy to no end. It turned out that his professor fought in the siege of his homeland some two hundred years ago, and that information alone was enough to instantly draw Alfred to him. Alfred asked about a deep scar that ran from the base of his ear down to his neck, and it was with a heavy sigh that he spoke of the fight for his freedom.

Alfred blinked out of his reverie as the annoyed voice of his professor made it to his ears, completely unaware of the first three times his name had been called.

"S-Sorry," he mumbled softly, looking anywhere other than at the elven man before him. He preoccupied himself with the writing on the chalkboard; today's lesson was about dragons and the dragonborn, ranging from biological information about the species to how to properly defend against vicious fire-based attacks.

"Mr. Honda, would you mind leaving Alfred and I to speak privately, please?"

Alfred's eyes widened, the blond silently begging his friend not to leave him alone. His efforts were shattered, however, as Kiku gave him a silent apologetic look and nodded politely at their teacher, headed for the door. "Of course. I will meet you in the dining hall when you are finished, Alfred."

_Damn it, Kiku, leaving me all alone… _

The professor sighed when the door clicked shut, easing up on his gaze until it was concern he was expressing towards his student, not irritation. "Alfred, I want to talk to you about what happened in class today…"

Alfred kicked the floor, meeting his professor's eyes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kirkland… I fell asleep and things got out of hand…"

"I'll bloody well say it got out of hand!" he quickly shot back, brushing stray blond locks behind pointed ears. Alfred flinched, waiting for the rogue magic to start flying. As an elf, Mr. Kirkland was exceptionally skilled with magic, but he was infamous for said magic going awry when he lost his temper. "You were screaming like you were being murdered, Alfred. Like something terrified you to the point where you were afraid your life was in danger. You scared me and the students half to death!"

Alfred fidgeted where he stood, feeling awkward and embarrassed about the whole thing. It was bad enough that Kiku had mentioned it, but to hear it from the professor made it that much worse; it solidified the fact that it actually happened in his mind and there would be no laughing it off like he hoped he could.

Sensing Alfred's discomfort at the mention of the events, Mr. Kirkland pointed a finger toward a nearby chair, magically pulling it over until it came to a soft halt at the kid's feet. The thought of sitting didn't appeal to the boy, but he gave in to his teacher's insistence, tentatively taking a seat. The worn blue notebook was clutched in his hands as he fumbled for the words, unsure of what to say. Talking never came as a difficult task to Alfred—he quite liked to be the centre of attention whenever possible—but it was talking about his abilities that left him tongue-tied.

He was a Dream Walker. He knew this much.

But what did that _mean? _

"Alfred, please talk to me," his professor said, resting his elbows on the desk. He leaned in slightly, voice gentle and fatherly as he continued. "If something's bothering you, I want to try and help you."

Alfred met those pleading emerald orbs and nodded, sighing. Fighting with the older man on this would only make him feel worse at the end of the day and it was quite possible the elf could know exactly what he was talking about. "Arthur," he mumbled softly, knowing he was able to drop the formalities during serious talks like this, "do you know anything about a big icy land and the Iceman?" Not knowing who or what the man-creature was, he decided he needed some acceptable means of referring to the thing that nearly strangled him with its frozen powers of evil.

Arthur blinked, taking a moment to process what was just said. "Icy land? …Iceman? I've never heard of anyone by that name."

"I don't know if that's actually what he's called, but I thought it sounded better than 'big scary dude that tried to kill me,' so I figured I'd go with that." Alfred shrugged lightly as he spoke, as if his reasoning was the most obvious thing ever.

"Alright," Arthur said, not in the mood to press the naming decision any further. "Can you tell me about him?"

Alfred took less time responding, telling him everything he told Kiku, sparing little to no detail. He spoke of the way it materialised in the room, the tattered cloak that moved as if it was alive, the commanding tone with which it spoke, and most importantly, how frightened and helpless it so effortlessly made him feel. Alfred spoke of every panicked detail and thought that crossed his mind as he burned from the inside-out, mentioning the violet-eyed man—whom Alfred would now refer to as Snow King—in great detail.

Arthur raised an eyebrow and said nothing about the way the young blond's tone and demeanour changed as he talked about the Snow King.

Over an hour passed as he relayed detail after detail of his dream to Arthur. When he had finally exhausted himself with talking, he flipped open the notebook to the page that had been scribbled on earlier, emerald orbs widening as Alfred pressed it into his hands.

"What is this…? These symbols look like they could be almost magical in nature…" Arthur's eyebrows furrowed in thought as the symbols of his people flooded his mind, trying to find familiarity in at least one of these strange glyphs. He let the book drop against the desk in defeat, unable to match a single one. Alfred noticed the deep, yet puzzled look on his professor's face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, the blond forgetting about it in a matter of seconds.

The notebook was pushed back across the desk to its rightful owner who let it sit there as he fidgeted in his seat. Arthur frowned seeing this. "Is something else bothering you?" After all the information he had to take in, it was unbelievable to think there could be _more _weighing down on the poor kid.

Alfred thought long and hard. He had kept the same bit of information a secret from Arthur now too, not fully comfortable with the idea of somebody dreaming about a slightly different version of him. Because at the end of the day, it had to be him. There was nobody else it could've been.

"Arthur…?"

"Yes?"

"Do you believe that there could be more than one you walking around in the world?"

Arthur blinked, confused. What kind of question was that all of a sudden? "More than one you? I'm not quite following."

"Like there's somebody who looks _exactly _like you but they're not you, you know? I can't really explain it, but it's been on my mind lately."

Arthur tapped his chin in thought, humming slightly as he thought of what he would say to that. "It sounds like you're referring to a Doppelganger."

Alfred blinked. "A what?"

"In a way, your twin," Arthur said matter-of-factly, his confident, professor-like tone returning. "They are rare creatures, but it has been said that there is a Doppelganger for everybody in the world. Meeting said copy is very rare—as a matter of fact, there have been less than a hundred sightings in all the time I've been alive—but seeing your Doppelganger can mean a variety of different things. More often than not, they are considered to be evil creatures, bringing omens of death or despair if met by their copy. But there are some who believe that they seek out their copy in order to inform them of something they wouldn't have realised on their own. Some people think they hold the key to lost memories of that person, showing up when they have something of importance to tell them."

"So how can you tell which it's supposed to be? And do you know if any of those are even true?"

Arthur couldn't help the small smile that played out over his lips at just how interested Alfred seemed to be in their impromptu lesson. Alfred didn't always pay great attention to the lectures he spent so much time preparing, but when it was something the boy was interested in learning, Arthur would swear he was speaking to a whole new person; somebody that listened intently and actually asked meaningful questions at the proper times. To say the least, Arthur felt proud.

"Without a personal experience, I can't say for certain. That was a topic I had planned to cover sometime in the future, but since meeting said Doppelganger is very rare as I stated before, I was going to save that for if we had extra time." Alfred's face dropped and Arthur quickly added, "But if you're that interested, I know our library has a wide expanse of books on anything you could be looking for. Maybe you'll find something that'll answer your questions."

Alfred shot out of his seat like a rocket, racing to his desk and haphazardly stuffing everything in his backpack. He didn't care about the crinkling protests of the paper as he zipped it up, running for the door, notebook in hand. Arthur was left dumbstruck as Alfred mumbled a hurried good-bye, shooting past him and slamming the door shut.

Arthur watched the boy with wide emerald eyes, waiting until he disappeared from view. His gaze darkened suddenly in thought, brows furrowed and lips pursed. Picking up the paper where he had copied the characters to study later, he let his eyes trace over their shape again.

"This is…"

Alfred's stomach growled as he ran for the library, surprised to find that he actually knew where it was. He felt bad for promising Kiku that he'd meet him for food, especially when he was already so hungry himself, but he had a lead and he couldn't let it go to waste. If he went and found his friend in the dining hall, the scent of all the available food would surely throw him off track and he _needed _to know. This was one of the very few times that food took a backseat.

Kiku's face popped into his mind as he pushed open the towering oak doors to the library, a guilty feeling sweeping over Alfred. Kiku looked so confused, wondering what could be taking him so long. His surprise talk with Arthur had already lasted well over an hour; was he even still waiting for him? Shaking his head, Alfred convinced himself that Kiku had already gone back to their room to begin tonight's homework, making the blond feel slightly better. He would make it up to him, he promised. After he found what he was looking for.

The library opened up in front of him, ocean eyes widening. This place was _huge_! How could he ever hope to find anything in here? Endless shelves of books filled the old, ornate room, towering well into the air, stuffed from floor to ceiling with books of all different sizes and colours. Hidden in the corner was black spiral staircase, leading up to the equally large second floor. Numerous chandeliers hung from the ceiling, running the length of the room until the flame from the candles above became nothing more than a sliver of flickering light. Alfred marveled in silence. The library was a very calm and peaceful place and Alfred wondered why he didn't spend more time in here.

After a good half hour of wandering and getting lost in this labyrinth called a library, it was becoming clear again why Alfred wanted to spend as little time as possible here. This place was a maze and he was convinced it took pleasure in trapping poor, unsuspecting students, keeping them here forever until they uncovered all its dark secrets…

Finally he gave up, asking the woman to show him where he could find that particular section. He was pointed up to the second floor, past the section on Harpies but just before the territory of Wizards.

Alfred chose a secluded table, books strewn out all around him. He pulled anything that seemed like it could be helpful off the shelf, carrying as many as he could at once before dropping off the armful and returning for the next. He also tried to find as many books as he could on snow and ice, positive one of them would know something about the snow-claimed land he saw. The table was covered until the light wood frame completely disappeared beneath them.

He paid no attention to the passing of time as he buried his nose in book after book, skipping through the pages to find anything relevant to his search. Several books lay dog-eared and bookmarked with whatever Alfred could find—pens, pencils, spare pieces of paper from one of his notebooks—and tossed to the side to make room for the unread books. There was tons of information in these books, but Alfred had yet to find that one thing he was looking for.

The library had long since been deserted, the last student shuffling out over two and a half hours ago. Thanks to the seclusion of the table he chose, the woman in charge completely overlooked him, heading out about half an hour after the final student. Alfred yawned into the latest book he was half-heartedly skimming through, trying desperately to keep himself awake. Another yawn escaped his lips and he felt himself losing his grip on the book, slowly sliding down towards the table.

_No! _he shouted mentally, snapping his body upright. His mind and body protested at the sudden wave of determination, doing whatever they could to ease him into the sleep he so desperately needed.

Alfred yawned widely again, eyelids sliding shut. He kept mentally yelling at himself to wake up, that he needed to keep searching. He was so close he could feel it and any answer at this point would be better than none. While he had found a lot of information that could be interesting if he cared enough to really read into it, nothing screamed up at him. He did, however, finally find some information about the Doppelgangers that Arthur mentioned previously, double bookmarking those pages for later use.

Nothing yet about the icy world that would bring him any closer to discovering the identities of the Iceman and the Snow King.

_Maybe just a quick nap wouldn't be so bad… _he thought, yawning again.

The book he was just reading quickly turned into a pillow, blond locks greedily claiming the words for themselves. Alfred let out another yawn, quickly letting the embrace of sleep wrap around him.

Everything suddenly got cold again.


End file.
